


Bittersweet

by CyborgCinderella



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Anxiety Attacks, Apologies, Feels, Gen, Light Angst, Mental Health Issues, One Shot, Redemption, WITH PIE, just gideon trying to be a better fox, making for it in the only way he knows how
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 13:32:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16159937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyborgCinderella/pseuds/CyborgCinderella
Summary: A little insight into Gideon's perspective, behind the scenes. Set the day Judy left for Zootopia.Oneshot, within canon, just filling in the blanks a little





	Bittersweet

It was the moment Gideon had been working towards for years. He had talked it over with this therapist, the exact wording, the gift, what he wanted out of the exchange.

“Remember, Gid, the objective here isn’t acceptance, this is an-”

“Ack-nowl-edge-ment of my remorse, I know, I know,” he sighed. Sat on the comfortable couch of Dr. Shelia Clawson’s office, the plump leopardess to whom he’d spilled his heart out to over the course of several years, Gideon picked at a stay thread in the upholstery. Attuned to his evasion mannerisms, his therapist leaned forward, smiling softly.

“Gideon, you can do this,” she said. The reluctance and worry in the fox’s blue eyes as he glanced up still was enough to twist her heart, but on the surface, she maintained the composure years of building up broken kits to find themselves again had given her. She waited as he looked around the room, avoiding her chair. When those eyes finally caught hers without glancing away, she continued.

“Gideon, you're not the scrawny, emotionally repressed 20-year-old I met five years ago,” she said, and Gideon smiled in self-decrepitation.

“Definitely not scrawny anymore, that’s fer sure,” he chuckled, but she shook away the deflection with a wave of a soft paw.

“You and I both know that your weight loss at that time was you way of hurting yourself, along with the substance abuse. You know you are healthy, of body and, in my opinion now, of mind."That caught his attention, ears pricking hopefully. But still his expression was one of doubt.

“You sure, doc?” he said, hands clutched together in something reminiscent of prayer, “How can you be sure? I mean, I still get all these thoughts that just won’t quit, about how everyone’s always lookin’ at me like I’m still about ta blow, and-” he cut himself off, hands squeezed together, and she could see his claws digging into the backs of his paws.

“Gideon,” she said, the use of his name jerking him out of whatever spin he was thinking himself into, “These anxieties you’re having are still something to work on, and I want you to remember you can discuss them with me, without judgement, at our next meeting. I don’t want you to feel you have to stop coming,” she said with a chuckle, “but I would like you to recognise how far you’ve come since the first time you sat on that couch.” That got to him, she could tell. The fox looked down at himself thoughtfully, and she took it as a good time to highlight his progress.

“These past few years, the last two especially, have been great for you, Gideon, remember that! You’ve found your passion! You graduated a college course with honours-”

“Yeah, from the community college, as a pastry chef,” muttered Gideon, but Sheila shook her head.

“Gid, you know how much you love baking, and its nothing to be ashamed of,” she held up a finger as he opened his mouth to protest, “Yes, even for a fox. In a community that is 90% prey and 80% farming, a skill like yours will go far- especially if you get out there and start entering those competitions you tell me you mother keeps hinting at you”

“Prob’ly won’t even accept my application,” he mumbled, and it was because Sheila was a professional, a practiced therapist, and a deeply empathic animal that that reply didn’t elicit an eye roll as it would have from anyone else.

“You won’t know until you try, Gideon,” she said softly, as she had so many times before. There was a moment of silence I which she gave space for Gideon to bring forward whatever was still causing the tension across his shoulders and the knot in his brow.

“What…what if she still thinks I’m a monster?” he said, in a voice so small it sounded like a kit half his age. Shelia let out a sigh, not of frustration, but one of a sad acceptance that the answer she was about to give couldn’t really help, no matter how often she gave it.

“If that’s the image she chooses to hold onto it after you’ve apologised, and after all you’ve done to change, improve and own up to your past actions; then that is her problem Gideon, not yours. All you can do is apologise and follow through with the improvements you’ve worked on.” She smiled at him, ignoring the quiet musical tune that signaled the end of their session that rang from her phone.

“You were never a monster to begin with Gideon, you know that.” The fox in front of her stood, his easy stance and straightened shoulders a world away from the fox that used to stumble though her door each week and graced her with a shy smile.

“You helped me realise that doc,” he mumbled bashfully, and she chuckled kindly, the sound washing away any awkwardness. Standing, she handed him his usual prescription write-up, walking him to the door of her office as she did so.

“It’s what I’m here for! Now, good luck with everything, and we can discuss how it goes next week, hmm?” she said, to which he nodded, his expression on slightly betraying how nervous he felt. “Wish me luck, doc!” he called over his shoulder, the hope in his voice causing the smile on the leopardess’s face to widen slightly as she waved goodbye.

 

* * *

After all that, it was too late.

Gideon stood in the yard of the Hopps family burrow, and the silence was deafening. He had got here later than he wanted, he almost had a breakdown choosing which pie to bring out of the several he had made in a fit of anxious energy. He thought (hoped) maybe she would be getting the evening train, or leaving in the morning, but he should’ve known that Judy would be on the first train possible out of Bunnyburrow. He could feel the pounding of his chest as he stood there, anxiety threatening to overwhelm him.

He shouldn’t have come to her family home. He should’ve done this before she left for the academy, or after she came home from college.

He should’ve just written a letter or asked someone to tell her.

He shouldn’t have let his anger get the better of him, all those years ago.

He should’ve-

He could’ve-

Could’ve-would’ve-should’ve-didn’t-can’t- “WON’T!!” the last word broke free from the chaos of his mind as a shout, accompanied by the crash of the metal pie tin as Gideon threw it to the ground.

The sound cleared his head, and for a moment he stood there panting, staring at nothing, tail whipping back and forth, paws clenched tight; sharp points of pain as within them his own claws dug into his pads. He could feel that old tick inside him, the one that told him hitting something would help, hitting someone, hurting someone, even if it was only himself. It had taken him many years to learn how to ignore that feeling, and not to push it down, but to let it go. He closed his eyes, and took a few breaths, four seconds in, hold for four, out slowly. He felt his shoulders relax and winced as he realised he claws had actually pierced his palms.

All at once the tension left him in one, great, shuddering sign and he found himself on his knees, fighting back tears on the Hopps driveway. He scrambled for the tin with blurry vision, a mantra repeating in his head.

_Get to the truck and then you can cry get to the truck and then you can cry get to-_

He nearly jumped out of his skin as a truck horn cut though his thoughts and caused him to turn. he was met with a procession of trucks, tractors, bikes and the bus or two that heralded the Hopps return to their homestead making their way up the drive. He had his hand on the door to his truck but even if he wanted to leave couldn’t yet, as the only way out was blocked with the parade of Hopps’.

Quickly he wiped at his eyes and tried to look as un-shifty as possible, a feat he hoped he was managing, even as hundreds of bunny eyes were regarding him in obvious suspicion. Some of the younger kits were pressing their faces up against the windows of the vehicles they occupied to view him. He felt his ears flatten against his head and fought to keep a fist from clenching as the feeling of being cornered intensified. A battered old truck with a worn Hopps logo pulled up a few feet before him, the passengers of which were instantly recognisable, out of all the rabbits there. Stu and Bonnie Hopps stared at Giedion in thinly veiled surprise and apprehension as the engine died.

It was then that Gideon realised that, although all the vehicles had pulled into the yard, not one bunny had emerged. The thought almost made him laugh. There were literally hundreds of them, what did they think he was gonna do?

He looked into Stu and Bonnie’s truck again, and slowly raised a hand in greeting, smiling nervously. Hesitantly, Bonnie waved back, nudging he husband as she spoke out of the corner of her mouth. Stu was regarding Gideon with a coldness that even Gideon knew was unusual for the bunny, who was well known for his jolly demeanour. There was a whispered discussion in the car, and though he couldn’t make out what was said, he could see the word fox mouthed several times, and many facial gestures in his direction. After a few moments, Gideon saw Bonnie throw her hands up, and then open the door to her side, hopping down gracefully as her husband stared aghast.

“Bon!”

“Oh, shush, Stu, we have a guest!” she called back over her shoulder, violet eyes on him. Judy had her eyes, and fur colour too, he noticed.

“Well, Gideon Grey, h-how can we help you?” she asked pleasantly, with only the merest tremble in her voice, a tremble that turned Gideon’s gut with shame. He cleared his throat, smoothing the fur atop his head nervously, afraid to meet her eye. Her eyes so like Judy’s.

“Well, Mrs. Hopps, I came here today, well-I… I reckon I- um” he faltered, looking everywhere with the small grey rabbit before him, and took a deep breath “I came to...to talk to Judy.”

“Oh no you don’t!” the other door of the truck slammed open, and Stu jumped out, face set in determination. He squared his cap, only a slight wobble in his lip as he approached. Bonnie looked at her husband in exasperation.

“Stu! Don’t make a fool of yourself,” she said disapprovingly, laying a paw on his arm, while, Gideon couldn’t help but notice, not quite turning her back on him. Stud looked between Gideon and his wife, his expression petulant.

“Bon…this is Judy he’s talking about” he said, with a glace at the fox that was a cold as it could get for Stu. Bonnie rolled her eyes.

“Yes it is Judy he’s talking about, of course it is! And if you recalled the conversation we had with her not even two hours ago, you would know how she would feel about this!” she said, lowering her voice, but not enough to evade Gideons hearing.

Judy had…talked about him? Today? A weird mixture of emotions stirred inside him, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to process. Did her want to have forgotten? Or was he glad that she was talking about him, weather it be good or bad? A foot below, the hushed matrimonial discussion was finishing up, with Stu exhaling loudly and crossing his arms.

“Ok then, Grey, what did you want with our Judy?” he said, eyeing him warily. Again, Gideon felt his heart thump, anxiety rising, but forced himself to look at the couple.

“I came here…. To apologise.” Surprise crossed the featured of the rabbits facing him in quick succession, leaving behind an expression of confusion on Stu’s face, but a soft smile on Bonnie’s.

“Oh, honey, you just missed her, she got the first train to Zootopia this morning,” she said, brows knitting sympathetically. Gideon sighed, nodding to himself.

“Of course she did, I shoulda known,” he said, trying not to let the bitterness he felt into his voice. He looked down at the slightly dented pie tin still in his hand, and then back at the Hopps. He stepped forward with it in offering, but apparently his movement had been too sudden, because Bonnie started backward, Stu stepping in front of her protectively.

“I-I made this pie for Judy… I’d like ya’ll to have it,” he said, trying to ignore the sudden looks of fear of both bunnies faces, trying not to let it hurt him. He could see Bonnie flush, shame flashing across her eyes, and she pushed past Stu’s protective arm to take the tin.

“You make pies, Gideon?” she asked curiously, taking the tin from him without the nervous shake in her paws he had expected.

“Yes ma’am, I do,” he replied, and winced as she tried to open the lid, “it did get, uh, dropped though, when I was, uh, leavin’ the truck, so I’m not sure of that condition it’s in. Should taste good though!” he said, knotting his paws together as he tried to inject some cheer into his voice. The tin was finally worked open by Bonnie, and despite himself, Stu had come over to look, peering over her shoulder curiously. Gideons heart sank as their eyes widened looking into the box.

Miraculously, the only sign that the pastry had been flung across the yard was a crack across the perfectly browned pastry. Despite the damage to the façade, it only meant that the rich red of the cherries beneath shone through, releasing their heavenly sweet scent. Stu’s eyebrows raised slowly, almost disappearing under his hat as he looked down at the pie, and then up at Gideon, looking the fox in the eyes for the first time. He let out a breath that could’ve been a chuckle, and Gideon saw an opportunity. If he couldn’t start off by making things right with Judy, the family who had to deal with the repercussions for his actions through her surely deserved just as real an apology. He cleared his throat again, causing the two to look up from the pie, but this time there was no jump, no stiffening of ears of fear flash across their eyes. Gideon took that as a good sign.

“Mr. Hopps, Mrs. Hopps, there’s something I’d like to say ta y’all too…”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi folks I'm Cyborg!  
> Thanks so much for reading, feel free to let me know what you think!  
> I haven't written in about a year, so I thought i'd mix it up at try a oneshot; I've never done one before and never written for zootopia, and really felt like actually finishing a fanfic for once!  
> There's a serious lack of Gideon fics about, and I thought a oneshot might help a little. its weird for me not to just run head-on at a multi-chapter fic (and then never finish), so this excercie was nice! Though tbh as I was writing this I could aready imagine a multi-chap about a teenage gideon in the middle of his aggressive era.  
> I have a multi-chap fic in the works, but may end up with a few more oneshots before then!  
> Till next time,  
> ~CC


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